


Ashes and Angel Wings

by CarolPeletier



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 13,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolPeletier/pseuds/CarolPeletier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles ranging from fluffy to smutty to angsty taking place after the showdown at Grady Memorial Hospital.  Carol and Daryl fight to keep each other going and explore new depths to their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from The Walking Dead, comic series or television series.  I am in no way profiting from these writings.  I’m merely a fan of the show and the characters.  Everything from The Walking Dead belongs to the creators of the series.

Ashes and Angel Wings

First

The first night after Grady, the group had found shelter in an old bus terminal.  There were cots lined up along the walls, medical supplies scattered over the floors showing proof that this had been one place of refuge in the midst of the turn.  Clearly, there’d been no survivors.  No walkers lingered about the place.  It was silent.  It was four walls and a roof. 

They’d ate a supper of canned peas and carrots in total silence, nobody ready to talk, nobody ready to think about what had gone down just hours ago.

Daryl had pulled away, and Carol noticed.  He’d sat next to her at supper, like usual, but the moment it was time to turn in to bed, he’d pulled away.  He’d gone to the furthest cot from the group, and she’d felt like a piece of her heart was missing.  He always slept close to her.  Now he was pulling away, just as he had after Sophia died.  She wasn’t going to let him.

She’d lain in her cot for a good hour, unable to sleep, while soft whispers and snores rose up and echoed through the terminal.  She sat up and pulled herself off the cot, silently walking down the row of beds toward his. 

Her heart thundered beneath her breast as she slipped her boots off next to his and bumped her shin against the cot frame.  He turned enough to see her standing over him, his eyes shadowed by the mess of hair in his face. 

“What’re you doin’?” he asked. “You hurtin’?”  He started to move to go find the bag of pain meds so she’d be able to sleep.  She put her hand on his shoulder to keep him down.

“Shh,” she murmured.  She pulled herself into the cot next to him, curling up against his back, her arm moving around his waist.  He froze at the feeling of Carol pressed up against him from behind, and he swallowed hard.  “You can grieve.  You can be angry.  But you can’t pull away, Daryl.  We need you.  _I_ need you.  Ok?”  He cleared his throat, and she rested her chin against his shoulder for a moment, needing an answer.

“Ok,” he murmured.  She smiled against his shoulder and buried her face against his neck.  After several minutes of stiff awkwardness, he finally let himself relax, let himself enjoy the feeling of her body pressed against his, let himself feel again.  He closed his eyes and promised not to shut down.  He’d be ok. He had to be ok for her.


	2. Hands

Hands                                                                                                                                             

Daryl was the first to wake, feeling the warmth of Carol’s breath on his neck, the heat from her body soothing his sore back.  He groaned as he shifted in the cot, the springs creaking so loudly he thought it might wake the entire group. 

Somewhere, Abraham let out a loud snore and cleared his throat, but then he was still and silent.  Daryl suddenly became aware that Carol’s arms had shifted sometime in the night, and the arm she’d had wrapped around his waist was now considerably lower toward his hips, and her hand was dangerously close to his crotch. 

She stirred against him, and he froze as her hand brushed over his groin.  He was fully awake now, and her oblivious movements had him stirring in his pants.

 

 _Shit.  Shit!  Think ‘bout mud.  Rocks.  Cold showers.  God damn it, Daryl._  She moaned softly and snuggled into his back as her fingers curled against the fabric of his pants.  He took in a shuddering breath and wondered if she could feel his heart jack hammering in his chest.

Of course, it happened, that Glenn sat up in his cot, rubbing his eyes, blinking and squinting as he tried to let his vision adjust to the dim dawn light filtering slowly across the terminal. 

Daryl lay still, hoping Glenn wouldn’t notice that not only was Daryl not alone in his cot, but that he was in a hell of a predicament thanks to Carol’s sleep-wandering hands.   And, of course, because it was Glenn, he noticed as soon as he stood up.  He moved slowly toward the bed, seeing how Carol was curled against Daryl’s back, how her hand was mere centimeters from his package and how Daryl was so tense he looked like he might explode.  And, of course, because it was Glenn, he smirked and gave Daryl a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

“Fuck off,” Daryl muttered as Glenn passed by, snickering to himself. 

 


	3. Breakfast

Breakfast

Carol woke to the smell of rabbit cooking.  She sat up in the cot, shivering at the lack of warmth since Daryl wasn’t there.  She looked around to see some of the cots empty while other cots showed shifting blankets as survivors began to wake. 

Daryl was seated cross legged near the ticket station, an old shopping cart turned on its side, where he had built a fire and used the slats of the cart to lay the meat upon.  Her stomach growled, and she got out of bed, pulling on her boots, and moving toward him to get a better look at the breakfast options.

He had several skinned and cleaned squirrels already half-cooked, while a plump rabbit was just starting to cook through.  Her stomach rumbled again, and she sat down next to him on the floor.  He barely glanced at her before dipping his head and muttering a good morning.

“Sleep ok?” she asked.  His face grew hot at the memory of her hands in places she had no idea she’d put them.

“Yeah,” he muttered.  “Not much room though.” 

“I’ll sleep in my own cot tonight,” she offered, looking toward him, trying to figure out what was running through his head.

“Don’t hafta,” he said quietly.  “Just sayin’.”  Carol blushed a little and nodded her head.  “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she muttered, scooting closer to him as he passed her a thoroughly cooked piece of squirrel.  She ate it down quickly, trying not to savor the taste.  She hadn’t acquired a taste for them, quite yet, despite having been eating them on an almost daily basis for the past year and a half. 

“Have some more,” he said quietly.

“No, save it for the rest of them.”

“Got plenty.  Have some more.”  He handed her another piece, and her stomach grumbled its thanks when she quickly chewed and swallowed it.

“Thanks,” she said softly. 

“Gotta keep up your strength.”  He cleared his throat and licked his thumb and forefinger before turning the rabbit over on the cart to make sure the other side got cooked through.

Glenn came padding over to the makeshift kitchen, and Daryl instantly tensed at the sight of him. Carol noticed, and she saw the shit-eating grin on Glenn’s face and the say-one-word-I-kick-your-ass look on Daryl’s, and she knew something was going on.

Daryl handed Glenn a plate with two pieces of squirrel and a chunk of rabbit. 

“Morning Carol,” Glenn said with that same grin.  “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Fine,” she said slowly.  “You?”

“Oh, great,” Glenn said with a chuckle.  He walked off, and Carol glanced at Daryl.

“Am I missing something?”

“No,”

“What was that all about?”

“Nothin’.”

“You’re not gonna tell me, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Can I get a hint?”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon, Pookie,” she urged. 

“Stop.  No.  Ain’t tellin’.  Eat.”  He nodded toward her plate.  She sighed and finished eating what was left of her breakfast, but she knew whatever this little thing Daryl wouldn’t tell her was, it couldn’t be all that bad, as he nudged her shoulder and gave her a little half-smile before finishing his own breakfast in silence.


	4. Secrets

Secrets

The group headed out before noon, everybody with their weapons at the ready just in case they came across a herd of walkers.  Daryl had kept close to Carol for a good hour on the road, but at some point, he’d gone up to join Glenn and was quietly talking with him.  Carol couldn’t make out a thing either of them was saying, but at some point, Daryl shoved Glenn hard in the arm, getting an amused laugh from the younger man.

“Don’t worry.  Glenn won’t say anything to anybody,” Maggie said quietly, moving to walk next to Carol.  Carol was about to say she had no idea, but amused, she decided it was more fun this way. 

“Oh, that’s…good,” Carol said quietly.

“Well, he told me ‘cause I’m his wife and all, but…you know I think it’s great.  You and Daryl.”  Carol’s eyes went a little wide.  What the hell was going on?  Maggie caught her look.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I mean…just ‘cause you fuck ‘em don’t mean you’re married to ‘em.”

“What?!” Carol asked, loud enough that most of the group turned to eye her, including Daryl, whose face was red with embarrassment.  He shoved Glenn again and turned to join Carol.

“’Scuse me, I think I’ll just…”  Maggie quickly rushed up to join her husband, and Daryl settled in walking next to Carol again.

“Um, excuse me, but did Maggie just say that we…that we…nothing happened last night, did it?”

“What?  No!” Daryl hissed under his breath.  “Nothin’ happened.  Just that…well, Glenn saw us in the cot this mornin’.”

“He sees us sleeping together…fully clothed, and he tells Maggie that we had sex?”

“What?  Well, he knows that didn’t happen.  He just…aw, shit.”  His face was red again, and he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair.  They slowed down a bit, letting the rest of the group get ahead so they could speak more privately.  “Maggie must’ve misunderstood.”

“What was there to misunderstand, Daryl?”  Carol’s face was turning red now.  Daryl cleared his throat and fiddled with his crossbow.  “You tell me now, Daryl Dixon.” 

“Look,” he muttered, “it’s nothin’.”

“Bullshit,” she hissed.  “Tell me!”

“Alright, look, you were all curled up against me in the cot, and your hands…well, your hands were kinda…somewhere that looked bad, and…”

“Oh my God,” Carol muttered, covering her face with her hands.  “They weren’t.  Please tell me…”

“And Glenn saw.”

“Shit.  Shit!”

“Yeah,” he muttered.  “But, if it makes ya feel any better….I mean…I wasn’t…complainin’.”

“Stop,” she choked out, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.  Daryl nudged her shoulder a little, and she let herself laugh. 

“C’mon,” he muttered.  “Let’s catch up.”  Carol nodded, but she put her hand on his arm.

“Well, if it makes us even, feel free to feel me up tonight if we end up sharing a bed.”  It was Daryl’s turn to blush, and Carol playfully slapped his behind, getting an eyebrow raise out of him.  “C’mon, Pookie.  Let’s catch up.” 


	5. Burden

Burden

“Hey, slow up,” Daryl called to the group when he noticed Carol slowing and saw the pain etched in her face.  Everybody slowed a little, some of them turning to see Daryl put his arm around Carol’s waist, helping her as her knees shook.  “C’mon.  Let’s sit you down.”

“We ain’t got time for this,” Abraham warned from up ahead.

“Then get goin’, asshole,” Daryl grunted.  Abraham started toward the back of the group, but Rosita stopped him by grabbing his large upper arm with both hands, pulling him back up to the front.  Abraham spat and kept walking. 

“Carol?  You ok?” Glenn asked, rushing over to help Daryl settle her against a shade tree off the road. 

“I’m fine.  Just a little overheated,” she panted, wiping sweat off her brow. 

“She’s hurtin’,” Daryl noted. 

“No shit, she’s hurtin’.  She got hit by a car,” Noah stated, moving over to open up a bottle of water and offer it to her.  Carol gave him a weak smile.

“Thank you,” she said gently.  “I’ll be alright.  I just need a minute.  You guys go on.”

“We’re not leavin’ anybody behind,” Rick spoke up, adjusting Judith on his hip as he moved toward them.  “Take a few minutes.  Carl, get in my pack.”  Carl unzipped the pack his father carried.  “That bag with the pankillers.”

“I said I’m fine.  Don’t waste ‘em on me,” Carol murmured.

“Would you stop bein’ so damned stubborn?” Daryl murmured, taking the bottle of painkillers from Carl and opening it up.  He pulled out two pills and handed them to her.  She glared at him for a moment before finally swallowing them down with a gulp of water.

“Just so you know, when I start singing and trying to take my clothes off later, it’ll be all your fault, Daryl Dixon.”  Daryl felt his cheeks grow hot at the idea, and Glenn snickered somewhere nearby. 

“Guess I’ll just have to keep my eye on you then,” he murmured close to her ear so that nobody else could hear it.  She nearly choked on another sip of water, and she pulled back, eyeing him.  Was he…flirting?  Carol sat there for a few moments before struggling to her feet.  Daryl dipped down to catch her arm across his shoulders, his arm going around her waist to steady her and help her stand.  “I got you.”

He was oblivious to the hint of a smile that quirked at the corner of her mouth.  Yeah, he had her, alright.

 


	6. Under the Influence

Under the Influence

He hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time, but of course, the giggles coming from her were mostly due to the fact that she had a couple of painkillers in her and looked like she was feeling pretty damned good.

Every once in a while, she would run her fingers through Daryl’s hair or squeeze his arm and remark about how hard his muscles were.  He was just trying to keep her upright and walking.  As the day grew longer, the group stopped by an old grocery store to stock up on bottled water and see if there was any food left that hadn’t met its expiration date. 

Daryl helped Carol set down on a pallet of water softener salt just inside the doors. 

“Need anything?” he asked.  She grinned at him, crooking her finger and motioning him toward her.  He leaned in, and she whispered something in his ear that made his face turn bright red.  Her giggle followed, and he moved away.  “Jesus, where’d you learn to talk like that?”  Carol laughed again.  “Just take your knife out and be ready, a’right?”  When he turned, he felt a pinch on his behind, and he turned to see Carol bat her eyelashes at him innocently. 

He swallowed hard and headed off to get supplies.  He found the beef jerky and knelt down to sort through the packages, looking for some that weren’t expired or weren’t too far past expiration.

“She’s totally into you, you know?”  Daryl jumped up quickly, turning to face Tara, who was one aisle over pulling cans of tomatoes into her pack. 

“She’s high,” Daryl pointed out.

“Dude, that’s not what I’m talking about,” she laughed.  “Right now?  She has no inhibitions, but it doesn’t mean the way she’s acting or whatever she whispered in your ear a minute ago isn’t true.  Believe me, I’ve experimented with my share of drugs.  Believe me.  Trust me.  She wants you.”  Tara moved away, leaving Daryl frozen there for a minute, Carol’s words echoing in his head. 

_“I need your cock in me right now.  Fuck me, Daryl.”_


	7. Camp

Camp

“That’s it.  We’re stoppin’,” Daryl decided, as the sun began to sink into the evening sky.  The fireflies were out, and a low rumble of thunder crept forward out of the distance. 

“We should keep going,” Abraham barked up ahead.

“We’re stoppin’.  Now,” Daryl urged.  Rick turned to see how Carol was leaning on Daryl, how she looked pale and worn out, and he knew that he at least owed her a good night’s rest.  After all, this woman had risked her life to save theirs at Terminus, and she’d risked her life again to try and save Beth at Grady Memorial. 

“We’re stoppin’,” Rick echoed.  “We’ll make camp here.  Abe, Rosita, you two take first watch.”

“This is bullshit,” Abraham grumbled.  “We should push on.”

“We don’t even know where the fuck we’re goin’,” Daryl spat.  “Your D.C. theory’s shot all to hell, so just shut the hell up and stop actin’ like GI Joe or some shit.”  He eased Carol down to sit on an old tree stump.  He eyed Abraham, whose mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to think of a witty comeback, but he couldn’t. 

The group set about making a low-burning fire.  By the time their meal of garbanzo beans and canned pears was through, the sun was low enough in the sky that it was too dark to do much of anything besides sleep.  Everyone situated their sleeping bags and bed rolls around the small fire, while Abe and Rosita set up a perimeter of fishing line and old cans to help alert them should any walkers get too close that night.  Daryl helped Carol with her bed roll and even added one of his blankets to hers to give her more cushion from the bumpy ground. 

“What a gentleman,” she said with a grin as he helped her down into it.

“Stop,” he muttered, getting another grin out of her.  “You need anything?”

“I’m cold,” she admitted.  He moved to cover her further, but she shook her head.

“The only thing I’ve ever known to put off enough heat to warm a body up is another body.”  Daryl looked around awkwardly, as the rest of the group settled into their bed rolls.

“A’right,” he murmured, laying his bed roll directly next to Carol’s.  He lay down and placed his pack down to use as a pillow.  He scooted up against Carol’s backside, his arm nervously snaking around her waist to pull her closer.  She was shivering at first but soon stopped, and he covered them both up as the low flame from the fire barely added enough heat to comfort them.

They lay still for several minutes, both warming as they absorbed one another’s heat.  It wasn’t long before Daryl felt Carol’s shoulders shake slightly.

“You still cold?” he asked.

“No,” she snorted, a little giggle escaping.

“S’wrong?” he wondered, propping himself up to peer over to see her face.  She turned her head just slightly, and he could see the half-hidden smirk on her mouth. 

“I was just thinking this would be the perfect time for you to get back at me.”  Her voice was strained as if she was biting back laughter.  He narrowed his eyes at her in the dim firelight, and she snickered.  “You’re the one in the position to have wandering hands this time.”

“Stop,” he muttered for the second time in just a few minutes.  She chuckled again, and he buried his face against her shoulder, inhaling her scent, thinking about her words earlier when she was stoned off her ass on painkillers.

After a few moments, Carol turned in his arms, facing him as they lay together, their legs entangled.  Daryl opened his eyes to stare at her, barely seeing her face in the darkness.  She leaned in closely and he tensed up as she pushed into him, burying her face against his neck.  He trembled as his hands moved down her back, stopping just before he made good on Carol’s offer to feel her up.  A grin pulled at the side of his mouth as he felt her shoulders shake as she sunk into him, and they finally settled together, arms around each other, limbs entangled, finally warm, finally comfortable.  Finally, they let sleep wash over them and take them far away from this hell of a life.


	8. Wash

Wash

The group found a small creek near the campsite, and by mid afternoon the next day, it was warm enough that they could all take turns bathing and washing clothes.  They’d decided to make camp for a few days to try and figure out their next move.  Noah had been talking of the place he’d come from, a place in Virginia with walls and generators and people.  Good people, he said.  Abraham had been skeptical when asking why he was here and not there, but the way Noah talked about the place, it sounded pretty safe.  Nobody had come up with a better alternative, so Virginia was definitely a possibility.

Carol had wanted to speak with Daryl that morning, but he’d lit out of camp like his boots were on fire before she even approached him, muttering something about going to hunt.  Instead of waiting around for him to come back, she’d taken the opportunity to have her turn at washing.  She made her way down to the creek by herself, peeking over her shoulder from time to time to make sure she wasn’t being followed.  She’d been warned by Tara about Eugene and his voyeuristic ways, and she wasn’t about to let him see her naked.

She sat down on a fallen tree, removing her boots one by one, peeling her socks off and dipping her feet into the water, wiggling her toes and throwing her head back to look up at the bright blue sky.  She sighed happily, moving her feet back and forth in the water.  She sat that way for a few minutes before standing and stripping down to nothing.  She peered over her shoulder a few times before wading out into the middle of the creek with her clothes bunched up in her hands, the cool water coming up just below her breasts.  She shivered for a few moments, before soaking her clothes in the water, letting the water at least wash away some of the dirt and grime that caked on.  She waded back to the creek bank and lay her clothes out over some of the large boulders, hoping the sun would start to dry them. 

She grabbed a bar of soap out of her pack before going back out into the middle of the creek to wash.  She lathered the bar in her hands before running her hands all over her body, washing thoroughly.  She looked down at herself, seeing bruises all over her right breast and side and hip where she’d been hit, and she winced when her fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive area.  She knew she was lucky to be alive, but she wished the ache would go away and that she’d get back to feeling somewhat normal.

She soaped her hands up again and ran them through her hair, massaging her scalp with her fingers.  She sighed and sank beneath the surface of the water, washing the soap away.  She came back up, squinting as the water and sunlight disoriented her for a brief moment and the remnants of soap burned her eyes.  She splashed a few handfuls of water into her face before she straightened up and looked toward the shore.  She gasped softly when she saw him standing there, mouth agape, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes fixed on her naked form as she beads of water trickled down her body like thousands of shining diamonds.

“Daryl,” she murmured, a little startled but not entirely surprised find him there, considering he’d been out hunting, and she knew him well enough to know that he’d probably have used the creek as a marker to help him get back to camp.

“Sorry, I…just…I’ll go…sorry…” the words were quick and choked, and he turned quickly, face red.

“Wait,” she said quietly, not even making an attempt to cover herself.  Daryl turned slightly, staring elsewhere out of respect.  “Daryl, you can stay.”

“Already did my washin’,” he murmured.  She smiled a little, amused but feeling bolder. 

“That’s not what I meant.”  She moved toward the water’s edge.  “Could you hand me that towel, please?”  The water was down to her knees now, and he swore under his breath, praying she wouldn’t see the bulge in his jeans as he moved to hand her the towel.  “Thanks.”  She wrapped the towel around herself and moved to stand on even ground with him.  She moved in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What’s that for?” he asked, a warmth spreading from the place she’d just kissed all the way to his groin.

“Thank you.  For coming back for me.  For taking care of me…after.”  He swallowed hard, nodding slightly.

“Wouldn’t have left in the first place if I had a choice.”  She nodded.

“I know,” she murmured.  “You came back.  That’s what counts.”  She moved her hand up to stroke his hair, and he trembled at her soft touch.  She found that her own heart was pounding in her chest.  She hadn’t expected him to happen upon her.  She hadn’t expected to let him see her naked and not even attempt to cover up.  She hadn’t expected to kiss his cheek.  And she certainly hadn’t expected to press her lips against his, as she was about to do, but she wasn’t going to stop it from happening.

She leaned into him, her lips soft against his, and he moaned softly against her lips as the first moments of their first kiss passed by as quickly as a memory.  He was the first to pull back, his hands moving to her shoulders, his eyes questioning hers.  Her lip trembled, and he took a deep breath before pulling her against him, crushing his lips upon hers this time, claiming her as his in a silent promise he’d never leave her again.


	9. Need

Need

“Jesus Christ,” Daryl muttered as he pulled back from Carol at the sound of footsteps approaching.  They’d slipped off into the woods for a little alone time.  While they still hadn’t consummated the changes in their relationship, they still enjoyed getting a little time alone together.  He’d had her pressed up against a tree, his hips pressing against hers, and that kiss had been going somewhere when someone decided to have the worst timing ever.

Carol straightened her shirt, which Daryl’s wandering hands had scooted halfway up her stomach.  She ran her fingers through her short hair, hoping she didn’t look like a woman who had been pushed up against a tree while making out with an archer whose kissing skills made her wonder what other skills he’d mastered with his tongue.

Daryl stepped back and turned just in time to see Rick step into sight.

“Oh, there you are.”

“Yeah.  Here we are,” Daryl muttered.

“Where ya been?  Was thinkin’ of goin’ on a run if you’d care to join me.”  Daryl ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at Carol, who smirked, unsheathed her knife and turned it over and over in her hands.

“I been here,” Daryl said with a shrug.  “Can’t Abe or Tyreese go?  I ain’t really in the mood for a run.”

“You?” Rick asked with a raised brow.  “Everything alright, Daryl?”

“Fuck, do I gotta have an explanation for everything?  I don’t wanna go.  Get Abe.  Or Michonne.  Or are ya too busy makin’ moon eyes at her to talk to her?”  Rick’s face went red, and Carol bit her lip to keep from laughing.  Rick cleared his throat, smiling nervously and running his fingers through his own hair.

 _Good_ , Daryl thought, _now ya know what’s like to be put on the spot, asshole_. 

“I’ll…just ask Glenn.”  He glanced at Carol, who raised an eyebrow and gave him a little nod, and then he turned and rushed off.

“You didn’t have to snap at him,” Carol chided playfully as Daryl turned back toward her. 

“Can’t get a second alone without somebody needin’ somethin’,” he muttered.  Carol gently tugged at his jacket, pulling him closer.

“Well, I need something,” she murmured.

“Well, you ain’t everybody else.”  She smiled and kissed him, sighing contentedly as he pressed her into the tree again, need and desire consuming them both.


	10. Stare

Stare

She watched him cross the camp, oblivious to his admiring audience.  He carried himself like a man with a burden on his shoulders, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders hunched a little.  He didn’t stand tall the way he once had back at the prison, when things were a little more stable and there wasn’t a constant threat that someone might wake up with a walker gnawing on their neck.  He seemed to keep to himself when he wasn’t with her. 

Judith had recently taken her first steps, and now she was toddling everywhere.  Carol noticed how most of the group was focused on resting or reading or eating or drinking.  It had been an uneventful day, and Judith was in a happy mood, playing with her few toys and going from person to person at the camp for a little attention. She was the sweetheart of the group.  She knew it. Everyone knew it.  She was a beam of light in times of darkness.

Carol watched as Daryl knelt down to rummage through his pack, pulling out a couple of books before quickly tucking them back inside.  Her heart dropped, and she knew he was carrying that book he’d taken from the women’s shelter about childhood abuse.  Her heart ached for him, and she knew that the last thing he’d do was talk about it. He had to work things out for himself.  If anybody knew that to be the truth, Carol did.

“Da!” Judith cried out, holding her arms up to Daryl.  He glanced down at her for a minute and patted her head  like she was a dog or something.  Carol furrowed her brows and watched as Judith tugged at his jeans.  “Da!”  She was persistent.  Daryl finally threw his pack down and reached down for Judith, hauling her up and holding her in the air above his head.  She giggled and kicked her legs, and a smile lit up Daryl’s face. 

Leave it to a baby to bright happiness where little happiness was to be had.

 

 


	11. Touch

Touch

His hand slid up her thigh and over the curve of her hip.  His fingers danced across her belly, while her skin jumped beneath his touch at the ticklish sensation.  He slid his hand up to curve around the swell of her breast, his thumb gently dragging around the nipple as his mouth and tongue pressed against the hollow of her throat.

Her hands moved down his strong back, stroking over the pale scars that he carried.  They moved further south, gripping his ass as he buried himself inside of her.  He caught her gasp between his lips, and, she arched against him, her body pushing into his, her nerves begging to be touched.

The stubble on his chin left her cheeks and jaw red from the friction, and she smiled when his arm snaked beneath her, pulling her closer, aching to feel closer to her than ever.

She pushed against him, rolling him onto his back, her knees coming to frame his thighs as she kept their connection, using the strength of her legs to anchor herself and move against him, move along his length, filling herself with him.  He grunted, his fingers curling at her hips, squeezing her, holding on for fear of her slipping away. 

In the end, they collapsed together, him pulling her down, holding her, kissing her, tasting the sweetness of her lips and the sweat on her skin.  Legs entwined, arms wrapped around one another, they couldn’t get enough.  Until now, the sensation of loving and being loved had lain dormant, and now they’d stirred the coals, and wisps of crackling embers ignited, reaching for more, needing to feed a hunger that had taken both of them over. 

He buried his face against her neck, feeling her pulse pounding against his lips as he kissed her.  He pulled back to look into her eyes as she gasped for breath, her breasts heaving against his chest as she slowly came down from her high, a pink flush still tinting her damp cheeks.

She smiled as she looked up his eyes and lifted her head to press her lips against his, breathing him in, relishing the feel of him, the taste of him.  The fire rose in her belly again, and she moaned as she felt him harden against her thigh.  The hunger would never be satisfied.  It would never be enough. 

 


	12. Feel

Feel

“They hate me,” Noah said quietly, leaning up against a tree as Carol packed a few things up.  The group was heading out in a few hours.  They’d decided to head for the settlement in Virginia, because, hell, where else were they going to go?

“They don’t hate you,” Carol murmured, wiping the sweat from her brow.  “You helped Daryl.  You fought with them.  You’re one of us now.”

“If I hadn’t left Grady, Beth might still be…”

“Stop,” Carol said quickly.  “What happened to Beth is _not_ your fault.  It was awful and never should have happened, but it did.”

“She died saving me,” Noah murmured.  “I should have killed Dawn myself.”

“I could have killed her,” Carol said softly.  “Or Daryl.  Or Rick.  They could have taken the shot, or I could have broken her neck with my own hands if I’d had the strength.  What happened, happened.”  She saw that he wasn’t completely convinced, and she sighed, zipping up her pack.  “Don’t blame yourself, Noah.  Don’t put that on yourself.”  She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.  Hauling the pack over her shoulder, she turned and moved over to where Daryl was cleaning off his crossbow bolts.

She sat down on the log next to him, and he eyed her.

“Everything alright?”

“Noah’s still beating himself up,” she said quietly. 

“Don’t got not reason to.  Wasn’t his fault.”

“I know that.  We all know that.  He thinks they blame him.”  Carol looked at the other members of the group.  “Even Maggie accepts that Beth died trying to do the right thing.”

“He’s gonna have to work through it.  We all did it.  Or we’re all still doin’ it.  It’s…it’s never gonna be the same.  We lost a part of our group.”

“I think Noah had feelings for Beth,” Carol said quietly.  “To see him talk about it, you’d think...”  She shook her head.  “I don’t know.  These days, you’re lucky if you have the chance to feel…anything.  Something more than fear and sadness.”  Daryl stopped cleaning his bolts and put his crossbow down.  His hand moved to rest on top of hers, and she gave him a little smile.  “We just keep moving, right?”

“Keep movin’,” he murmured.  “Keep tryin’ to feel alive, or else we’re no different than walkers.”

“Daryl?” Carol asked softly, her voice just above a whisper.  “When I die…”

“Stop.”  


“Listen to me.”  Daryl stood up, chewing his lip, his gaze darting about the camp, anywhere but at her.  This was the last conversation he wanted to have.  “Daryl.”  She reached out and tugged his hand.  “It’s going to happen one day.  If I go first…I need to know you won’t shut down.  I don’t want you to turn off your feelings.  I don’t want…you’ve come so far, Daryl.”  He slowly sat down next to her again, his throat tightening at the thought of losing her.  “Don’t stop, Daryl.  Just keep going.  Please, promise me.”  He nodded.  “I need to hear you say it.”

“God damn it, I don’t wanna do this,” he barked, slamming his hand down hard on the bark of the log.  Carol didn’t flinch.  She saw the emotions playing out on his face as his lip trembled and his hands shook as he tried to fight for control of his feelings.  “I ain’t losin’ you.  I just found you.  I ain’t lettin’ you go.”  Carol sighed softly, accepting his words for what they were for now.  She knew it was too much.  They’d been through too much to think about losing another member of the group, especially one another.  It was too much, too soon.

“I’m here,” she promised.  “I’m here.”

 


	13. Hide

Hide

“Hide.”  Daryl’s voice was low and rough as he pushed Carol through the dense brush and bushes they’d found themselves in.  They’d been on a simple run together.  It was supposed to be a quick jaunt through the woods to grab some extra bottles for water, and instead, they’d been sidetracked by a small herd of walkers that seemed to surround them. 

They’d run into an old clothing store, but unfortunately, they weren’t able to close the door off to the walkers.  So, they’d run through the rows of clothing to the back where three fitting rooms stood with the doors wide open.  They were the doors that went all the way to the floor so there were no chances for peeping perverts with cameras. 

“In here,” Carol grunted, pushing Daryl inside and closing the door behind them.  She locked it, but she knew that would simply be a slight hindrance to the herd.  It was close quarters, and Daryl grabbed Carol protectively, pulling her into the far corner of the fitting room.  His eyes were trained on the door, but hers were already darting about, looking for escape. 

The door began to shake as the unforgettable rasping and moaning from the dead became so loud it was hard to think.  Carol’s eyes fixed on the ceiling tiles, and she felt a rush of relief.  She nudged Daryl in the chest, and he followed her gaze, realizing what she wanted to do.  He nodded, and they both climbed up onto the little bench where a couple of garments lay covered in dust.

Carol popped the tile out, and she was the first to pull herself up into the ceiling, flashing her light around to make sure it was safe.  It was dusty and dirty, but it was safe, and they were used to these kinds of predicaments.

“All clear,” she whispered before hoisting herself up all on her own, impressing Daryl with the impressive upper body strength she’d acquired over the past year or so.  Daryl followed, pulling himself up and putting the tile back into place.  There was a more solid surface a few feet back, and they army crawled over to it.  It was a storage space with boxes of old merchandise that probably went out of style years before the Turn.  

They had room to move, to sit up, and Carol groaned, leaning against the wall.  The sounds of walkers scratching down below was faint now, but it was still there. 

“Well, we’re safe,” she offered with a pitiful laugh.  “It’s not exactly Trump Towers, but it’s safe.”   She winced and rubbed her shoulder.

“S’wrong?”

“My shoulder’s still sore,” she offered.  “I think the muscle’s still bruised from the accident.” 

“C’mere.”  Carol twisted around and sat with her back to him.  Daryl’s hands were on her shoulder in an instant, gently rubbing and soothing the ache, reminding her of that first night at the prison when she cheekily asked him if he wanted to fool around.  Oh, if they’d known then what they knew now, he might have taken her up on that a lot sooner.  She smiled a little, chuckling and bowing her head as he worked.

“What?” he asked.

“Kinda romantic.”

“Stop.”

“Screw around?”


	14. Moan

Moan

Everybody was in a sour mood when Carol and Daryl joined the ranks of the living one morning.  They walked together, not hand-in-hand, because they didn’t want to be too showy with their relationship.  They weren’t exactly hiding, but they didn’t want to be _that_ couple.    

“Morning,” Carol said with a bright smile, as she sat down and reached for the coffee kettle that was strung up over the fire.

“Morning’s right.  Nothin’ good about it, that’s for sure,” Glenn mumbled.  Carol raised an eyebrow.

“Rough night?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t we be askin’ you two the same thing?” Abraham asked from across the fire, picking his teeth with a small squirrel bone.  Carol felt Daryl tense next to her. 

“You tryin’ to say somethin’?” Daryl asked.

“Hey,” Abraham said, putting up in hands, “I’m the last person who’d wanna deprive a couple of gettin’ their grind on, but have a little respect for the other people tryin’ to get a good night’s sleep ‘round here.”

Carol was pretty certain her face was drained of color at this point, while Daryl’s reddened by the second. 

“Jesus,” Daryl muttered, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Just a little loud,” Glenn offered, avoiding eye contact with the archer.  Daryl nearly choked.  He was gettin’ scolded for loud sex from Glenn?  _Glenn_?! 

“Sorry,” Carol said sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize to him,” Daryl grunted.  “Just a couple nights ago, him and Maggie kept us all up.  Thought two wolves were rippin’ each other apart.”  Carol put her hand on Daryl’s arm as snickers rose up from around the campfire.  Glenn’s cheeks went bright red, and Maggie bit her lip to stifle a giggle.  “And maybe if ‘ole Abe was still gettin’ some, he wouldn’t be complainin’ so much,” Daryl suggested.

“Daryl!” Carol scolded, barely able to hide the amused smile that threatened to tug at her mouth.  Rosita and Abe looked at one another distantly, before Rosita stared down into her coffee cup with such concentration that she looked like she was trying to tell the future.

“And just so ya know, I’m pretty sure I heard the wolves fightin’ in the Sheriff’s tent last night.”  Everybody turned to look at Rick, who sat with Michonne at his side.  They both looked exhausted but happy, until those words came out of Daryl’s mouth.  Rick dropped his half-empty cup, and it spilled all around his boots.  The award for reddest face that morning went to Sheriff Grimes.


	15. Creep

Creep

His tongue slid up the length of her neck, and she mewled out a soft moan, her hand working his shaft, pumping him as he groaned against her ear.  His hand moved to the apex of her thighs, and she cried out, biting down on her lip as he pushed two fingers inside of her.

“Daryl!” she moaned, her muscles contracting around his digits.  He stroked her for a few moments before removing his hand.  She moaned as he pressed her into the tree, the bark digging into her back, but she didn’t care.  She wanted to feel everything. 

She heard the teeth of his zipper drag down and release, and he cried out when he pushed into her.  She bit her cries out against his shoulder, and he groaned at the feeling of her heat surrounding him.  He grunted, trying not to come at that moment.  They were still for a moment, staring into one another’s eyes. Finally, he grabbed her behind the knees and lifted her.  She wrapped around him, holding onto his shoulders so tightly she thought she might leave bruises.

He began to move within her, pushing her as far as she could go, hearing her cries of pleasure echo into the night.  Carol threw her head back, looking up at the treetops and the dark skies blurring together in one beautiful flash.  When she heard a noise behind Daryl, she snapped her head back, crying out in surprise at the sight of a pale face staring at her from behind a low limb.

“Oh my God!” she hollered out. 

“What’s wrong?  I hurt you?” he asked, stalling his movements.

“Someone…someone…watching.”  She panted out as Daryl pulled out of her quickly, and her feet hit the ground. 

“I’ll kill ‘im!” he barked out, stuffing himself back into his pants.  He helped her gather her panties and her pants, and she quickly pulled herself into them.

“It’s…”

“It ain’t alright,” Daryl growled.  “Some pervert watching while we’re…”

“Daryl,” Carol said softly, squeezing his arm.  “I think it was Eugene.”

“I don’t give a damn if Jesus Christ himself was watchin’.  That shit’s wrong.”  Carol bit her lip to keep from laughing.  “What’s so funny?”

“Rosita told me that Eugene likes to watch…you know, when she and Abe mess around.”

“She might get off on that, but I don’t.”  They started toward the woods, and Carol snorted out a peal of laughter.

“What?”

“Well…it is kind of funny.  Here, we’re trying to find a little privacy, and Eugene’s actively seeking out people so he can…do whatever he does.”  She saw the face Daryl made as the moonlight filtered down through the treetops.  “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”

“If it’s sad, ya write a country western song or somethin’.  Don’t go watchin’ people when they’re…”  His face was red. She could tell by the way he bowed his head shyly. 

“Don’t hurt him, Daryl.  He’s just…lonely.”

“I’m gonna set his ass straight, that’s what I’m gonna do.”  Carol couldn’t help but find this macho wolf attitude of Daryl’s highly attractive, but she tried to remain sober about the situation.

“Next time it happens…”

“Next time?  Shit!  Won’t happen again if I have anything to say about it.  You hear that, Eugene?!” he hollered.

“Daryl,” Carol murmured, her hands moving to his biceps.  “It happens again, feel free to beat the tar out of him.  _I’ll_ talk to him.  We have to travel with him, you know?  I’ll talk to him, and if he doesn’t leave us alone, then you can handle it.  Deal?”

“Deal,” he muttered.  They walked the rest of the way back to the camp in silence, and when they arrived, Eugene had already plucked himself a seat around the fire and had grabbed something, anything to occupy his hands with to avoid looking like the cat that caught the canary.  It happened to be a magazine on motorcycles.

Daryl sat down across the fire and eyed Eugene.

“Got yourself an interest in bikin’, there, Eugene?” he asked, his eyes trained on Eugene’s who appeared to have broken out in a cold sweat.  Carol shot Daryl a look, and he watched as she tapped Eugene’s shoulder and nodded toward the woods.  He looked at Carol and then at Daryl and got up to follow Carol over by a large tree. 

Daryl marveled at how calm Carol could be given the fact that Eugene had just witnessed her having sex, but she seemed to carry a certain strength about her, trying not to show any embarrassment whatsoever.

She seemed to be speaking in soft tones with him, and Eugene was nodding nervously, his body visibly shaking.  He said something to her, and Daryl noticed how Carol tried to suppress an amused smile.  After several minutes, Carol left Eugene by the tree before he took off into the woods, probably to take a piss.  Carol sat down next to Daryl and grabbed a stick to prod the fire with.

“We have an understanding,” she murmured.

“The hell you say to him?”

“It seems Eugene’s very intimidated by powerful women.  I didn’t get much out of him, but I’m pretty sure he’ll leave us alone.” 

“That it?”  Daryl picked up an old tin cup with hot coffee in it and took a sip.

“Well, I did tell him that if he watched us again, I’d personally see to it that he was publicly humiliated and stripped naked before the rest of the group so we could all see him the way he’s seen us.”  Daryl choked on his coffee and spat it out.

“No shit?”

“No,” she laughed.  “I told him you’d beat the shit out of him.  He’s seen your arms.  He gets it.  He’ll leave us alone.”  Daryl snorted, and Carol squeezed his arm.  “And what exquisite arms they are.”

 


	16. Silent

Silent

Carol’s heart jack-hammered in her chest as she lay flat against the cold asphalt under a smelly old pickup truck.  Daryl lay next to her, his head raised a little to see the many pair of passing walker feet.

They’d come to a big congestion of cars on the Interstate, and most of the group had considered staying there for the night, at least to have more comfortable sleeping accommodations for one night, but a large herd had made its way toward them, and they’d ended up hiding under cars, trying not to make a sound or draw attention to themselves.

Carol’s fingers ached as she gripped Daryl’s hand so hard, her mind flashing back to watching Sophia and Carl huddled together under one car as a walker made a grab for Sophia.  She felt tears sting her eyes, remembering the fear in her little girl’s eyes as she tried to keep quiet like her mama taught her to.

Without meaning to, Carol let a little whimper escape, and before she could mentally scold herself for it, Daryl squeezed her hand and raised a finger to his lips.  She nodded and curled around to press herself into him, and he grasped her, holding her tightly.  She sighed against his chest, her entire body trembling as they heard the low moans and the shuffling feet pass. 

A scream up ahead let them know one of their own was taken, and Carol bit her lip so hard she thought she drew blood.  Daryl held her tighter, and he trembled, his breath shaking against her cheek.

“Shh,” he whispered.  “Hold on.”  Daryl glanced over at the next car, where Tyreese and Sasha held on to one another, trying not to think of all of the horrors they’d witnessed since the Turn.  The tears streaming down Sasha’s face told of her grief for Bob who was now just a memory. 

“Who was it?” Carol asked after a long silence, long after the feet had stopped shuffling by, long after the screams had stopped.

“Dunno,” Daryl murmured.  “Just hold on.”

“Not another one.  Not another,” she whispered against his neck, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, spilling onto his skin.  They held one another for another ten minutes or so, and finally, people started pulling themselves out from under the cars.  Daryl helped pull Carol out, and they clung to one another, checking each other for cuts or scrapes. 

“Daryl.  Carol,” Rick murmured, walking over to them. “It’s…it’s the boy.”  Carol felt her stomach drop, and a little sob escaped.

“No…Noah?” she asked.  “Oh no.  No…”  She stifled a sob, and Daryl squeezed her shoulder. 

“Did you see?” Daryl asked.  Rick nodded, his face paler than usual.

“He was silent…up ‘til the end,” Rick said quietly.  “He was brave ‘til they started…”   Carol sniffled and turned her back, walking over to lean against the hood of an old Chevy.  Another one.  Another death that made no sense.  Another down.  Another piece of their group chipped away to nothing.


	17. Storm

Storm

A thunderstorm this late in the year only meant the danger of the rain turning to snow if the temperature dropped much lower.  The group had found shelter in an old barn.  It was in better shape than the house was, and with a little cleaning out of the stalls, they were at least habitable enough to sleep in for a night or two.

Thunder shook the sturdy wooden structure as lightening flashed outside.  Judith was particularly fussy tonight, and the group was on edge, worried that her cries would attract walkers, even with the frighteningly loud thunder overhead.

Rick and Tyreese had barricaded the doors, and Carol and Daryl took first watch in the loft.  Daryl sat against a beam, his foot pressed against the bottom of the loft window.  He held his crossbow in his lap, while Carol sat Indian style with her rifle across her knees.

“It’s really comin’ down,” Daryl muttered, peering out as sheets of rain pelted the soil down below.  Judith continued crying down below, and Daryl fidgeted.

“We’ll be ok,” Carol said softly.  “Gotta be.” Daryl eyed her, and he saw her shift in her place, arching her back to stretch a little.

“You ok?”

“Just sore from being under that truck.  I think I hit my shoulder.”

“You and that shoulder,” Daryl chuckled.  Carol gave him a little smile.  “C’mere.”  Carol scooted over, her back to Daryl, and she sighed as he began to rub her sore shoulder, his fingers ghosting over her gently, making sure she was comfortable. 

“Sometimes it feels like we’ll never get there.  Virginia, I mean.” 

“We’ll get there.  Just don’t know what we’ll find when we do,” Daryl murmured. 

“Noah said they had walls.  People.  Supplies,” Carol considered.  “But so did Terminus.”  Daryl felt her tense at her own mention of the place.

“And we got out. _You_ got us out.”  He gently tugged on her shoulder, and she turned her head to look into his eyes.  “You did that, Carol.”  She gave him a thankful half-smile.  “We’ll take more precautions this time.  We’ll do what we gotta do.  We’ll survive.”  He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and she trembled. 

“We will,” she murmured.  “We do what we have to do to survive, right?”  He gave a little grunt and went back to rubbing her shoulder, and she relaxed against him, turning her head to stare out over the farm land, hoping for a better day tomorrow, hoping that each day they grew closer to Virginia, the horrors that she’d encountered in Georgia would slowly slip to the back of her memories.  She just wanted to forget.


	18. Safe

Safe

“Not the baby!” Carol cried out, moaning softly in her sleep, tears wetting her face.  Daryl shot up next to her, watching her writhe on the stall floor, her chest heaving as she began to hyperventilate.  “No.  Please!” 

“Carol?” he murmured, gently shaking her shoulder.  She continued to whimper in her sleep, and Daryl shook her a little harder.  She gasped, and her eyes flew open.  She blinked in the darkness, seeing Daryl’s face leaning close to hers.  “You were dreamin’.  It’s alright.  You’re awake now.”  Carol began to sob, and she pulled her arms around his neck.  He wrapped his arms around her, swallowing hard as she felt her take in shaking gulps of breath against him.  He gently caressed her back, and she trembled against him.

“Everything ok?” Glenn asked, looking down from the loft up above. 

“S’fine,” Daryl murmured.  The movement above told Daryl that Glenn went back to his post.  He turned his attention back to Carol and rocked her gently in his arms.  “S’alright.  You dreamin’ ‘bout your girl?”

“No,” she sniffled, pulling back and wiping her eyes.  “God, Daryl.  It was awful.”

“The dream?”

“The grove,” she choked out.  Daryl felt his heart jump in his chest, and he felt his stomach coil into knots.  She hadn’t been ready to talk about everything with Mika and Lizzie, and now, it seemed, the thoughts were willing themselves forth in her subconscious, eating away at her, making her restless at night.

“Tell me,” he said softly.  “You don’t gotta carry it all by yourself no more.”  She let out a breath and buried her cries against his neck.  He held her until she quieted, and when she finally pulled back, wiping her nose and sniffling, she began to tell him all about finding Tyreese and the girls.  She told him about Lizzie’s confusion and how she’d killed Mika and wanted to kill Judith.  She told him about pulling the trigger and watching Lizzie’s knees buckle as she fell dead on the ground.

He listened and stroked her hair and promised her that everything would be alright someday.  Someday, the pain would ease and it would be a distant, aching memory that was merely one single part of something that had made her stronger than she’d ever thought she could be.


	19. Hunger

Hunger

“Take it.”

“No.”

“Take the damn candy bar, already,” Daryl grumbled, thrusting the shiny package in her direction.

“No, Daryl, it’s your favorite!” she insisted.

“If you’re gonna argue, I’d be happy to settle it and eat it myself,” Michonne offered.  Daryl shot her a look.  “No?  Well, then stop arguing and split the damned thing, because you’re making me hungry just talking about it.”  Michonne sped up her pace to catch up to Rick, and Carol sighed. 

“Fine.  Give me half.”  Satisfied, Daryl opened the crinkling package and split the semi-stale candy in two, intentionally making the half he offered to her slightly larger.  She eyed him, noticing, but she took it, because she knew he wanted her to have it.  She moaned softly when she popped it between her lips, and he found himself staring at her lips, thinking about other things she’d had them wrapped around in the last twenty four hours.  His fingers.  His nipples, his adam’s apple, his dick. 

She grinned when she saw the blush fill his cheeks, and she nudged his shoulder.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Dixon.”

“It’s not…I’m….”

“Eat your candy.”  She moved closer to him as they walked.  “And you can have your dessert tonight.”  He coughed loudly, trying not to choke on his bite of chocolate, and Glenn gave him a ‘what the fuck, dude?’ look as Carol slapped him on the back.   “You ok, Pookie?”

“You tryin’ to kill me, woman?” he coughed.  She grinned and gave his butt a little tap.


	20. Cold

Cold

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Daryl muttered, his teeth chattering as he pushed more of the blanket toward Carol.

“I’ve got plenty,” she insisted.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he grunted.  “It’s cold.  You’re shakin’.”  Carol sighed and rubbed her hands together under the blanket as they sat on the cold floor of the old storage compartment. 

“Reminds me of last winter,” Carol murmured.  “God, that was awful.”

“Least these are cleaner than the ones we stayed in last winter.”

“And we’ve got each other,” Carol pointed out, snuggling up to him.  Her hand moved under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his stomach against the palm of her hand.  He felt a little warmer at the contact, and he kissed her.

“Too bad we didn’t know how we felt last year,” he chuckled.  “We coulda been a whole lot warmer.”

“I knew,” she protested.  “I just didn’t think you did.”

“We both talkin’ ‘bout the same thing?” he asked.  Carol laughed and kissed his neck as his hand moved down her back and up her shirt, his fingers caressing her back, warming her tremendously.  “Shit, I knew.  Was too afraid to curl up behind ya to get warm, ‘cause then you’d know…”  Carol laughed. 

“You were afraid to get too close, because you were afraid I’d know you were turned on?”  Daryl blushed when he heard her say the words.

“Hey, don’t make fun unless you know what hell it is to have a fuckin’ hard on when you’re tryin’ to press up against the _reason_ you got a hard on.”

“Oh God,” she snorted.  “You are so adorable.”

“Stop,” he muttered. 

“You should have just told me what you wanted,” she giggled. 

“You shoulda told me,” he countered.  Carol snuggled up against him, her hand trailing down his stomach and toward the bulge in his pants. 

“Well, we both know, now, don’t we?” He groaned as her tongue slipped out, trailing down his neck and over his adam’s apple.   His grunted response was all she needed.  “Don’t worry, Pookie.  I’ll keep you warm.”  He swallowed hard and banged his head on the metal storage cell as her hand slipped into his pants and gripped him. 

“Fuck!” he hissed out.

“Shh,” she whispered.  “Save your energy.  When I’m done with you, you get to warm me up.” 

“Fuck, I love you,” he grunted.  She giggled and began to warm him up, anxiously waiting her turn to get warmed up.


	21. Snow

Snow

Judith Grimes squealed with delight as she ran back and forth between Carol and Daryl in the soft, fluffy snow that had fallen the night before.  They were in the mountains, somewhere near or just inside of Virginia.  The group had taken shelter in a log cabin.  It was a large one with two stories and three fireplaces.  It reminded Carol of the ski resort her parents had taken her to when she was just a little girl.  She remembered the fresh snow and how as a child, the cold hadn’t bothered her nearly as much as it did now.

“Judith Grimes, get back here before we lose you in all this snow!” Carol called out, unable to stop herself from laughing at how excited the little girl was.

“Asskicker’s first snow,” Daryl said pointedly, grabbing Carol around the waist as she chased after Judith.  “Let her have her fun.”

“She’s going to freeze her little toes off,” Carol pointed out.

“Let her have her fun,” Daryl encouraged.  Carol sighed and wrapped her arms around him as she pulled her in for a hug.  Judith jumped into a large pile of snow, and a sparkly white cloud of snow dust rose up around her.  She giggled and clapped her hands. 

“No!  No!” she called happily.

“Snow,” Carol corrected.

“No!” Judith giggled.  Daryl chuckled and let go of Carol so she could chase after Judith again.  Carol picked her up, hauling her up in the air for a brief moment.

“You’re gonna turn into a snow baby if you stay out here much longer,” Carol chuckled, kissing the baby’s nose.  Judith laughed and wriggled, trying to get out of Carol’s arms so she could play some more.  Finally, Carol let her down, and the baby took off again, running around in circles as the snow started falling again. 

Daryl moved up behind Carol, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.  She smiled, snuggling into him and sighed when he kissed her neck.

“I hate snow,” Carol laughed, “but it’s pretty magical to see it through a baby’s eyes again.”  He felt her shoulders shake as she let out a slow breath, and without even having to ask, he knew she was thinking of Sophia.  He hugged her close, and she sighed, leaning into his chest.

“Da!”  Judith looked right at Daryl, and Carol laughed.

“She wants you.  Go on.  Show her how to make snow angels.” 

“Snow angels?” Daryl groaned, getting a giggle out of Carol.

“Let her have her fun, Daryl,” she teased, throwing his words back at him.  Daryl sighed and resigned himself to making snow angels with Judith for the rest of the afternoon.


	22. Frozen

Frozen

Carol shivered as she rode in the back of the old school bus that Daryl and Abe had managed to get started.  The heater didn’t work, and everybody was piled under blankets just trying to keep warm.  They were inching closer and closer to Virginia, and hopefully Noah’s directions to the supposed safe area  were accurate enough that they’d be there within the next week.

“I think my ass is frozen,” Glenn muttered from the seat next to Daryl and Carol’s.

“Think warm thoughts,” Carol teased through chattering teeth. 

“Fresh….hot….chocolate chip cookies,” Maggie murmured as she burrowed her face into Glenn’s shoulder. 

“Fresh brewed coffee,” Rick drawled, cradling Judith against his chest as he rested his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him. 

“A hot steaming bubble bath with bath beads,” Carol moaned, leaning her head against the back of her seat. 

“Buffalo hot wings,” Tara chimed in. 

“Chocolate chip muffins,” Carl offered.

“Shit, now I’m just hungry,” Daryl muttered.  “Frozen and starvin’.  This safe zone better be damn good for all this trouble.”  Carol rubbed his leg under the blanket they shared.  He eyed her, and she gave him a little grin that promised that the next opportunity they had to have some privacy, she’d make sure he was plenty warm and comfy.

“Chicken noodle soup,” Michonne offered.  “Homemade.  None of that canned junk.  The real deal.  With crackers.  Nothin’ better on a cold, snowy day.”

“Yeah,” came the collective agreement from most of the people on the bus.  Daryl fidgeted under the blanket, and Carol kissed his cheek and leaned against him to whisper soft enough for only him to hear.

“My hands on your chest.  My mouth against yours.  You inside me.”  She smiled and pulled back to see the flush fill his cheeks.  “See?  I’m plenty warm now.”


	23. Salvation

Salvation

It looked more like an ancient walled city when they approached from the highway than it did a safe zone.  From a mile away, it looked like some kind of arena with high walls.  But the closer they got to it, the more they could tell there was probably a whole town behind it.  People were posted on various spots along the top of the wall with lookout towers and guns, and while it seemed like a safe bet, it also made some of them plenty nervous.

They’d been accepted in and told they could keep their weapons, just like at Terminus.  The way some members of their greeting party looked at them, they were having just as much doubt about accepting new people as the group was about joining new people.  But, then it came time for lodging assignments.  Rick went first, getting a place for himself, Carl and Judith, and to the surprise of no one, Michonne.  Maggie and Glenn were next.  The group stood in line, waiting for their lodging, and Carol felt Daryl’s hand slip into hers.  She looked at him, and he nodded.  She smiled and nodded back.

“Next.  Last name?”

“Dixon,” Daryl murmured.  “I’m Daryl.  This is Carol—.”

“Carol and Daryl Dixon,” the guard said, cutting him off.  Daryl was about to correct them, but Carol squeezed his hand. 

“Thank you,” Carol said quickly, accepting a piece of paper from the man with the clipboard.  Daryl gave her a look of surprise but said nothing as they crossed through the gate.  A friendly blonde woman with a nametag that said “Sandy” greeted them.

“Welcome to the safe zone,” she said with a smile.  “You have your lodgings.  Tomorrow you’ll get your work assignments.  Everybody does their part around here.  It’s part of how we’re still here.  You will find running water and electricity in your housing accommodations.  Thanks to a few engineers, we have running generators and solar panels.  We have gardens filled with fresh food, we have a ‘run crew’ that goes out once a week for supplies.  We have a school, we have a church, we have a rotating armed guard schedule that keeps our walls protected.”  Carol felt her nerves uncoiling in her stomach as the woman spoke, and she felt so very tired, letting herself lean on Daryl. 

She spoke a few minutes more about what the group of survivors could expect in their new home, and before they knew it, they were walking down the street of an old sub-division with nice homes that Carol could imagine used to host fancy cook out parties and the like.

“This is us,” Daryl murmured.  “224 Juniper.”  They stared up at a nice one-story home with baby blue siding and a fenced-in yard.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Carol murmured, gripping the fence posts.  She let out a sigh of relief and felt a couple of tears slip down her cheek.  Daryl pulled his arm around her waist, and she leaned against him, letting herself relax for the first time in far too long.  “We’re safe, Daryl.  We’re safe.”


	24. Home

Home

Each home was fully furnished, and Carol felt tears well in her eyes at the sight of a fully furnished kitchen, complete with a stove, small fridge and a even a coffee maker. 

“Fresh coffee every morning,” Carol hummed softly, running her hands over the smooth counter top. 

“Maybe even a turkey in the oven for Christmas,” he offered.  Carol turned to face him, a wide smile on her face. 

“It feels too good to be true,” she whispered, bridging the gap between them.  “Like tomorrow I’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream.”

“Right there with ya,” he murmured, tugging at her hips and bringing her close. 

“Do we…really have a house?  All to ourselves?”

“Looks that way,” he chuckled.  “Gonna be different not havin’ to share close quarters with a dozen people.”  Carol nodded and smiled widely. 

“Whaddya say we break in our bed?”

“Gotta find it first,” Daryl pointed out.

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.”  Carol eyed him devilishly before taking off in a sprint toward the front of the house.  Daryl rushed after her, chasing her up the stairs, his heart welling with happiness as he heard her laugh, really laugh, for the first time.  That happy, hopeful laugh was something he hoped to hear every day for the rest of their lives.


	25. Christmas

Christmas

Daryl woke to a familiar smell wafting into the bedroom, and his stomach grumbled right away.  He pulled on a pair of black sweat pants and walked down the stairs to find Carol cooking in the kitchen.

“Mornin’,” he murmured.  She turned and greeted him with a smile and moved toward him to kiss him softly.  “Sorry, ain’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Hey, I’m used to ‘morning breath Dary,’” she laughed.  “I don’t mind.  Here.  Have some coffee.”  She poured him a hot cup, and he groaned softly after the first sip.

“Feels strange havin’ all this again.  Feels almost like it used to.”  He opened up the oven door to be greeted by waves of heat and the smell of turkey roasting in the pan.

“Merry Christmas,” Carol said softly, gently running her hand up his bare back, her fingers gently grazing over his whipping scars.  Daryl closed the oven door and turned to pull her into his arms.  He kissed her softly for a moment, putting his coffee cup down so he could hold her with both arms, moving his hands down her back. 

“Want your present?” he asked, his lips grazing over her ear, his hands moving to untie her bathrobe. 

“If it’s what I think it is, I think we’d better baste the turkey first,” she teased.  Daryl snorted against her neck, and she giggled as his lips moved over her collarbone. 

“Wait here,” he murmured.  Carol smiled and watched him go, biting her lip as she anticipated her present.  She took a sip of coffee out of Daryl’s cup before placing it back on the counter.  She peeked out the kitchen window and into the back yard, where snow was beginning to fall.  She sighed softly and leaned against the counter, wondering what was going on at Rick’s home.  Was Judith opening presents?  Was she listening to Christmas carols?  It felt a little strange, still, waking up every morning without a whole group to eat breakfast with and travel with.  They’d barely been in their new home for a week, and she figured it would just take some adjustment. Still, she had an added bonus of waking up in bed with Daryl every morning, and she was definitely not going to complain about that.

She moved over to reach into a cabinet above the fridge, and she grabbed a small box, smiling as she ran her fingers over the ribbon she’d lovingly tied around it.  When Daryl returned with something behind his back, he froze when he saw her holding a box.

“You’re not the only one with surprises,” Carol said with a small smile.

“Ya didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”  She smiled and held the box out to him.  They exchanged presents, and she bounced on the balls of her feet.  “Open yours first.”  Daryl sighed and then proceeded to remove the ribbon carefully, a notion that touched Carol.  He knew she’d taken her time wrapping his present.

When he finally got the box open, he found a nice, warm, cream colored sweater.  Carol smiled at him.  “I traded three days of gate duty for it,” she confessed.  “I saw it and thought of you.  You can wear it when you go out to hunt since the weather’s turned so cold.”  Daryl had already made arrangements with the gate crew so that he could go hunt fresh game so the people wouldn’t have to rely on eating only dried meat.  The turkey in their oven was courtesy of Daryl’s hunting trip yesterday. 

“It’s nice.  I like it,” he murmured.  “Thank you.”  She smiled and kissed his cheek.  Most women would probably assume by the short phrases that their men didn’t care for the gift, but Carol knew her man was one of few words, and when he said he liked something, he meant it.  Carol helped him tug the sweater on over his head, and she relished the feel of his muscles jumping under her caresses. 

“Just as I thought,” she said with an approving smile.  “Perfect fit.”  Daryl shifted nervously now, and he tugged something out of the back pocket of his sweats.  It was a small, black velvet box that had the tears already welling in Carol’s eyes.

“Oh God,” she murmured.  “Daryl, what did you do?”

“Open it,” he urged her.  “Go on.” She delicately took the box in her hand and pried the lid open.  She covered her mouth with her hand when she saw the simple but elegant silver band with a set of small diamonds. 

“Oh God, Daryl,” she whispered.  “What…”

“I, uh, wanted you to know,” he murmured.  “Ain’t never been nobody like you before.  Ain’t never gonna be nobody like you.”  He leaned in closely and put his hands around her waist.  “I love ya.”

“I know,” she said with a smile.  It wasn’t the first time he said it, but it was the first time he’d looked in her eyes and told her in a way that wasn’t playful or fun.  He wanted her to know he meant it when he said it, and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.  “I love you.”

“Will ya wear it?”

“Daryl Dixon, are you asking me to marry you?” she asked with a little grin as the tears began to roll.

“You been married, and I know ya weren’t happy.  I just want ya to know I love ya, and I want…I want to spend my life with ya.”  The tips of his ears were red, and a blush was spreading from his neck up to his cheeks.

“I want that too,” she sniffled.  “Will you put it on me?”  He nodded and took the ring out of the box.  He slipped it gently onto her finger, and she sighed softly, curling her fingers around his.

“Just as I thought,” he said softly, echoing her words from earlier.

“Hmm?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears again.

“Perfect fit.”


	26. Shower

Shower

“I can’t see!” Carol squealed as soap got into her eyes.  Daryl had her pulled flush against his body, their bare chests pressed together as they stood beneath the warm stream of water.  He maneuvered her so the stream washed over her hair, cleaning out the soap.  He chuckled, running his hand through her short locks to help wash the soap away. 

“This shower ain’t big enough for two people,” Daryl pointed out as Carol rubbed her eyes and blinked as the water ran down her body.  They turned so he could get a turn under the stream.  Carol ran her fingers through his hair, washing out the conditioner.   “It smells like strawberries,” he grunted.

“That’s one of the _many_ reasons I like my hair short.  No tangles,” she teased.

“I smell like a girl.”

“You smell amazing,” she promised him.  “I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

“Pfft,” he sputtered, brushing the wet mop of hair out of his face.  Carol dropped the bar of soap, and they both bent down to get it, smacking their heads together.

“Somehow this isn’t as sexy as I thought it’d be,” she laughed.  She placed the soap on the little ledge in the shower corner, and Daryl pressed her up against the wall.

“Give me a minute,” he urged, pressing his face against her neck.  She snorted out a laugh as his hands slid down her wet body, and she moaned when he brushed his fingers against the soft patch of hair between her legs.

“Okay, getting sexier,” she said softly, arching back as he began to nibble at her neck.


	27. Bed

Bed

 _Creak_.

“Daryl?

_Creak. Creak._

“Daryl?”

“Wha?” he muttered sleepily.  Carol bit her lip and grinned, turning in the bed. 

“Something bothering you?”

“No.  Why?”

“Because you’re tossing and turning, and I can’t sleep.”

“Oh.  Sorry.  I can sleep on the couch.”  He got up to move, and she tugged his arm.

“Don’t you dare.  I can’t sleep without you,” she urged.  He pulled her into his arms, and they lay there for a moment.  Then he shifted again.

 _Creak_.

“Daryl?  What’s going on?”

“It’s…too comfortable.”

“What?” she asked, exasperated. 

“Hell, I’m used to sleepin’ on the ground.  Dirt and rocks .  This is just all soft and puffy and…”  Carol snorted in the darkness.  “You laughin’ at me?”

“You wanna sleep on the floor?  I’ll sleep on the floor with you.”

“No. We can sleep on the bed.”

“Daryl, I’d sleep on a bed of nails as long you were laying with me.  Just make up your mind, ‘cause I feel like I’m out to sea with you rocking back and forth over there.” 

“A’right.  I’ll go to sleep now.”  Carol smiled and sought his lips with her own in the darkness.  When she relaxed against him, she began to drift off to sleep.  Just as she was dozing off, Daryl shifted again.

 _Creak_.

“Alright, floor it is, but tomorrow night, we’re sleeping in this bed.  You’re just gonna have to accept that we don’t have to sleep on rocks and dirt anymore.”

“Deal,” he muttered.  They climbed out of the bed and snuggled up together on the floor, and before too long, they were both out like lights.


End file.
